shattered arcane
by halcyon epochs
Summary: of broken trust and hero complexes • qlfc round two


**written for qlfc round 2 (tornadoes chaser 3)—**

 **prompts**

 **(main) brachiosaurus: Write about a character whose attempt to help ends negatively for the recipient/s.**

 **(word) ancient**

 **(color) turquoise**

 **(setting) Forbidden Forest**

 **WC: 2401**

 **—other prompts below**

 **thanks to sienna (empyreal tempest), victoria (heads not hearts), and shay (belle parole) for betaing!**

* * *

 _Snivellus,_

 _Meet me at the base of the Whomping Willow during the next full moon._

The note is not signed, but Severus knows it can be from only one of two people. He knows it can't be Pettigrew, because he has the spine of a flobberworm. It can't be Lupin either, because as much as he loathes his friends, Severus can admit that he's the most sensible of them all.

So that narrows it down to Potter or Black. Knowing them, it's most likely a prank or a trap of some sort.

He reads the note again. Full moon... those words ring a bell.

Could it be linked to his theory about Lupin?

Severus crumples the parchment in his fist and scowls. There's no way he's going to be ensnared by them, and he's not going to risk his life for some foolish prank.

* * *

"You _gits_!" Lily shouts angrily. "Turn his hair back right now!"

The aforementioned gits flee, cackling madly, and Severus is left to brood over his new turquoise hair, staring bitterly at his reflection in Lily's conjured hand mirror.

His other hand twitches, subconsciously reaching for his wand. He wants to make those idiots pay for his humiliation. The desire for revenge stirs within him as they flee, evolving into a vindictive flame that wants to do nothing but kill.

But Lily places a hand on his shoulder, and her touch is water; it douses the fire inside of him. Severus looks at her hand, smooth and delicate and petite. He follows the arm to its owner, and Lily's spellbinding green eyes gaze at him with sympathy.

He doesn't like sympathy. Sympathy is for the weak. But she's not weak, and she's the only person he'll accept sympathy from.

"Sev, hold still," Lily orders gently. "I think I know the counter-charm."

He looks into her eyes as she mutters frantically under her breath, waving her wand in a series of complex motions.

"There," she says proudly. "Have a look."

He looks at himself in the mirror, just to appease her, but he already knows her work is perfect. It always is.

"Thanks," he says genuinely. _You're the only considerate person around here_ , he adds silently.

Lily's eyes glitter the way they always do when he thanks her. It's quite endearing, really, and special because he's the only one who can make her eyes glitter like that.

"Now, promise me that you won't go after them," she says meaningfully, her eyes now serious.

 _No promises,_ he thinks guiltily, but he doesn't tell her that. Instead he lies instinctively, "I promise. I wouldn't want to stoop to their level, would I?"

She holds his gaze for a few moments. "I trust you."

 _I trust you._ Those words resonate in his head like a mantra. I trust you.

 _I'm sorry._

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I promised Alice that I'd help her with Charms," she says, and draws herself up. Severus stifles a smile.

"Go on, then."

She gives him a smile that dazzles him momentarily, and then it's gone as she rounds the corner.

As soon as she's gone, his fists and gut clench at the same time. He's got his own agenda, and regardless of what she asks of him, the need to punish Potter and his mates trumps that.

He will have his revenge, one way or another.

* * *

The full moon is just minutes away, James thinks, glancing out the window. Soon, they'll have to sneak out and help their friend during his worst times.

"Mate, isn't it dangerous to drink before a transformation?" Peter asks quizzically, as Sirius, reclining against the headboard of his bed, idly sips from a bottle of firewhisky.

Sirius releases a hoarse laugh. "Nah, I'm— _hic_ —a professional, Petey," he slurs. "Stop— _hic_ —being a worrywart."

Peter still looks dubious, but he doesn't question him further.

But Sirius isn't done yet. "Guys—that hair prank on Snivellus was— _hic_ —bloody awesome," he chuckles.

There are murmurs of agreement from James and Peter, the former digging through his drawer for the Hangover Potion.

"But guess— _hic_ —what," Sirius continues. "I already pranked—him again."

"Oh, really?" James says distractedly. "Pete, what is one of your days-of-the-week briefs doing in my drawer?"

Peter flushes pink. "The house-elves must've mixed it up," he mumbles, avoiding James's eyes.

James rolls his eyes and turns back to the drawer. Sirius continues his story.

"Guess—what I did?" he drawls.

"What?" Peter asks, slightly intrigued.

"I sent— _hic_ —the greasy git a note— _hic_ —telling him to meet us— _hic_ —at the Whomping Willow."

James halts his search abruptly, his mind trying to catch up and comprehend his best mate's words. "...I'm sorry?"

Peter, too, seems to be frozen in place. He's staring at Sirius in disbelief, his hands suddenly clammy, and a knot is materializing in his stomach.

Sirius seems annoyed at having to repeat himself. "I said—that Snivellus is going to meet— _hic_ —us at the Whomping Willow—"

James drops everything—including the hangover cure, and there is the sound of glass shattering, but he doesn't hear it, nor does he care. His mind is panicked. If Snape finds out their—Remus's—secret, then only disaster could follow.

"You—" he begins, a string of expletives racing through his mind, but there's no time to verbalize them.

"What's— _hic_ —the matter?" Sirius questions tipsily.

"Your stupidity," James snaps darkly, grabbing his Invisibility Cloak and hurrying to the door of the dormitory, glancing out of the window. The moon is gradually rising like a countdown timer of doom. "I need to find Snape and stop him."

Peter pushes himself off of the bed. "I'll come—"

"No," James pauses, thinking. "Go to the hospital wing and get some Hangover Potion, and be discreet about it."

Peter nods resolutely. "Will you be okay?"

"I hope so." James casts a grim look at Sirius, who, in his inebriated state of mind, is seemingly unbothered by the night's turn of events.

"Let's hope he hasn't screwed us all."

* * *

Severus hurries through the grounds, his hood over his head, aiming to avoid suspicion. He's almost at the Whomping Willow, the light bark of the ancient tree a stark contrast against the darkness of the night.

He looks around warily. Neither Black nor Potter are there, just as he'd suspected.

But suddenly, he sees a dark silhouette streaking across the grounds towards the willow. A smirk curls Severus's lips.

 _Here they come…_

But the moon throws a brief light on the mysterious figure, and it's not Potter or Black, but it's Lupin.

The smirk on his face grows. _Your time here is done, Lupin,_ he thinks savagely. _I'll knock you and your precious mates off of your pedestals, and have all of you expelled._

He starts tiptoeing towards the tree, watching attentively as Lupin waves his wand and a branch goes flying, colliding with a knot at the base of the tree, and to Snape's astonishment, the tree stops moving and allows a short window for Lupin to dart through a small opening at the base of the tree.

Severus is practically salivating as he watches this occur. His time has come.

* * *

Under the Invisibility Cloak, James sprints through the castle's corridors, praying that he won't run into anyone or anything that could delay him.

He's almost at the double doors when he sees the worst possible obstacle—Filch's blasted cat, Mrs Norris. She's pawing the feet of a knight, the harsh sounds of her claws scraping against the metal grating against his ears.

His mind runs through a stream of options. He could hex her. He could tiptoe by and pray she didn't hear him with her keen ears. He could—

 _Ah, fuck it,_ he thinks, and decides to go with the first option. He casts Petrificus Totalus on Mrs Norris and flat out bolts for doors.

 _This is for Remus._

James can see Snape disappearing into the Whomping Willow's secret tunnel as he emerges. Liquid panic crashes over him. He has to stall Snape.

 _Damn Sirius's idiocy,_ he curses as he hares towards the violently-thrashing tree.

He stops just a few meters shy of the willow. His eyes lock on a branch resting haphazardly on the ground.

With a wave of his wand, he Levitates it and guides it carefully to the key knot located at the foot of the tree.

The process is taking entirely too long, but the exit of the tunnel is not far from the entrance. James keeps jumping as he hears sounds, hoping with all of his heart that he gets there in time.

As soon as the tree stops writhing, his legs are moving before he even commands them to. He's crawling through the tunnel at supersonic speed, panting, grunting, his eyes focused firmly ahead, looking for any sign of Snape, and _fucking hell_ this is terrible.

And then his blood goes cold as he hears a petrifying scream from up ahead (and _fuck_ , he did not know Snape could scream like that) and the first thought that rushes through his mind is _I'm too late._

James plows into a human wall, and he vaguely recognizes that it's Snape, rigid with fear. And then, he sees Remus, fully transformed, and growling ferociously.

"It's true," Snape whispers, horrified. "Lupin is a—"

Before he can finish the sentence (but quite honestly, there's no point in preventing the inevitable), James clamps a hand over his mouth. Hazily, he realizes that his wand is still in his other hand, so he numbly lets a spell fall out of his mouth and Snape goes stiff in his arms (quite frankly, not a huge difference from his previous position).

The werewolf is stalking towards them, his maw rippling with undisguised bloodthirst. James can only do one thing: _run_.

He scoops Snape up like a ragdoll (which he regrets later, because Snape is not a ragdoll, more like a dead weight) and starts lumbering towards the other end of the tunnel.

The werewolf trots behind them at an easy pace, almost mocking his slow speed. James tries to lengthen his stride, acutely aware of the danger just a few pawsteps behind him.

(If needed, he will transform. Forget the consequences; two lives are at stake here. Three, if he wants to include Remus.)

He can see the light at the end of the tunnel. He's almost there. Almost away from this madness.

Except that it's not over yet. The werewolf has other plans. He lunges towards them, and out of pure instinct, James transforms.

His surroundings simultaneously speed up and slow down. He is more powerful as a stag, and more alert and nimble. Therefore, he is able to kick the werewolf's jaw, and the animal reels back, momentarily stunned.

 _Where did Snape go?_ James glances around frantically, crouching on his haunches. He had been presumably thrown off when James had transformed, judging by the lack of weight on his back.

He spots the Slytherin stirring groggily near the entrance (thankfully) and he gallops towards him, stopping at his side and nudging his arm with his hoof.

"Potter?"

James nods. Snape gapes at him. "You're an Animagus?"

James rolls his eyes. _No kidding._ He angles his head towards the werewolf, who is slowly getting to his feet, and then tilts his antlers towards the light.

Snape, thankfully, understands the message and together they move their way into the open.

The werewolf, however, has not given up its pursuit. It follows them out and tail between his legs, James gallops towards the Forbidden Forest.

The pursuit takes a lot of energy out of him, more so than chasing down Snape. He navigates his way through the brambles and shrubbery, his head low and running as fast as he can. It's tiring, but it's necessary.

He finally manages to lose the werewolf, though not without a sense of guilt. Remus is ensconced somewhere, begging for sweet release. But he's denied by the werewolf in him, and it sends a heart-wrenching pang in James's chest when he thinks about it.

But at least becoming an Animagus has helped him. It ensures that Remus could stay in control and contain his bloodthirst.

Not tonight though, apparently.

Exhausted, James finally emerges from the forest, fatigued and wanting nothing more to collapse. But he still has one problem to deal with.

Snape.

Snape is still where James left him, sweating profusely and his fists clenched at his sides. His glare is biting, accusatory, and James immediately dives headfirst into a nonsensical explanation.

"Snape, this isn't what you think it is—we weren't trying to murder you, I swear—it was a stupid mistake—"

He falls silent as Snape, fuming, takes a step forward and draws his wand.

"Don't give me your inane excuses, Potter," he says, a haughty sneer etched on his sallow face. "You can't charm yourself out of this one. You tried to _kill_ me, and that is grounds for expulsion. And as for Lupin—he'll be expelled for this as well. I'm going to go straight to the headmaster to report this right now."

When James does not reply, Snape turns his back, and marches away, but James does not follow him. He has no heart to do so.

He sits on the warm grass, knees drawn up to his chest, resigned and forlorn. The moonlight beats his head, as if it was reprimanding him. He buries his head in his knees.

For some strange reason, he feels responsible for the night's catastrophic events. Even though it's Sirius's fault, not his, he still feels guilty. Not for Snape, but for Remus.

Remus doesn't deserve the punishment for something that is beyond his control. It's Sirius who deserves the blame, and yet he's peacefully lounging in the dormitory, drunk and clueless of the consequences of his actions, that his best mates would be most likely expelled. It sends a fresh wave of anger through him.

But the most guilt-inducing part of it all? He hadn't been able to protect Remus's secret, the very thing he had promised him when he had unearthed his friend's clandestine wanderings every full moon.

Both he and Remus would be forced to live with the repercussions, whether in the school or in the outside world. It wasn't fair. It really wasn't. James balls his fists, cursing him to hell.

There is no way around this debacle. Snape is right, he can't wheedle his way through this simply with a winning smile.

The last hope he has is Dumbledore.

* * *

 _Film Festival: 21. (word) secrets and 22. (word) fierce_

 _Seasonal Challenges - Days: Moon Day; Musical Challenge: Sweeney Todd; Gryffindor Challenge: Easy - James Potter, Medium - Peter Pettigrew, Trait - Reckless; Star Chart: Mars at Opposition_

 _Writing Club: Char App - 21. (object) Invisibility Cloak; Disney - Guilt - Write about someone feeling guilty.; Amber's Attic - Show Me a God: Write about someone losing their faith in someone/thing. Lyric Alley - You have stolen my slumber; Lo's Lowdown - Governor Kodos - Write about someone doing a terrible thing for what they think are the right reasons._


End file.
